9

CHAPTER 9 – CONVICTIONS AND VALEDICTIONS

Seifer's eyes flitted open to the dimly-lit interior of his private tent. That there was any light by which he could see at all told him that the sun was up outside. So too was the rest of the camp; the rustling of their footsteps and their occasional murmurs passed by all around. Biggs and the other superior officers he'd appointed had done well keeping the troops in line and diligent while they'd been encamped over the last three weeks, affording him the ample rest he needed. Still, it was his duty to lead by example. He thrust the covers off his bedroll and clambered to his feet. After so long, the usual soreness in his back barely registered anymore.

It had been a long, grueling trek for them all. Having abruptly fled the Battle of the Gardens with all those who'd seen the retreat signal go up, Seifer had led the way southeast to the location Edea had specified. They'd trailed the coast down and around the Vienne Mountains within the first month. Conditions had been harsh, and the terrain often treacherous, but the giant crater running through had left them with no other viable path to take.

Their progress had soon enough slowed to a painful grind once fuel began running low. The aerial mechs, being the most inefficient gas-guzzlers among them, had all been abandoned after the first couple of days. By the time they'd started turning due south around the peninsula, they'd taken to walking along their motorcycles the rest of the way to preserve whatever they had left. It was a calculated risk on Seifer's part: for however much longer the journey had taken on foot, their remaining supply had been better reserved for the squad he'd tasked with continuing further south.

Upon settling at the designated spot along the coast, he'd sent off two knights and two soldiers, sharing two motorcycles, bound for the east end of the Horizon Bridge. The total amount of gas siphoned from the rest should have been enough to get them across to Timber. From there, it would only be an afternoon's train ride to the capital. Provided there hadn't been any holdups, they ought to have made it there within the first week. He expected it would be at least another two before the inbound submersible fleet arrived, however.

All things considered, their passage into Esthar territory had gone off without a hitch. There had been no border patrol to deter them. Neither had Seifer any reason to expect resistance so far outside the city; it was all as Edea had foretold. Since the end of the war, the new administration had taken great pains to keep their country sequestered from the rest of the world. With Odine Industries' exclusive resources and expertise, they'd done so for the better part of 17 years, to a degree quite literally unseen by any other world power in modern history. His forces having progressed so far along the continent's outskirts ultimately made no difference. Whether via the mountains, the crater, or the Great Salt Lake further south, it would take much more than his current regiment of soldiers and knights to break through into the heart of Esthar.

Finding a means of entry was only the first hurdle, however. Even with Galbadia Garden still at their disposal, it would have been of no use to them in achieving their ultimate goal once on the other side. There was another piece of the puzzle still missing. It lay sunk beneath the waves, abandoned by Esthar long ago in the hope no one would ever find it again. Somehow, Edea had, hence their position on the west-most tip of the Mordred Plains.

Seifer bent down and reached for his grey jacket left discarded on the floor of the tent. Nearly 2 months removed from the battle, its fabric had become worn and soiled. Its tails were now jagged and tattered from having been snagged on all manner of obstacles along the way. His gunblade rested just beside, its magazine compartment still blown apart. With the trigger function unusable, all he had left to rely on were the last dregs of Edea's magic she'd bestowed upon him. It was to his benefit there had been no rumblings of a mutiny thus far; he already felt more vulnerable now than at any other time he could remember.

The only solace to guide him through lay tucked inside the jacket's pocket. As he threw it on, he reached in, fumbled around, and pulled out the sphere he'd pilfered from Selphie. He still had no explanation for its bronze coloring, nor the Galbadian logo printed on its casing. Regardless, the gleaming energy contained within was plenty potent; he would routinely check on it every morning as he awoke, and every night before he went to sleep. Its radiance was almost hypnotizing to behold, calming even. Whether it were a result of his continued exposure, or a placebo effect to help keep himself sane amidst the circumstances, he couldn't have cared less. Whatever the reason, it did the trick.

And so, as he pressed the sphere's twin switches to part both halves, just as he'd done so many times over the course of the journey, his weary eyes shot open in alarm. From where once there shone radiant light, there was now nothing. The sphere was completely hollow.

What the hell?!

He blinked rapidly, desperately hoping he was dreaming, or at least still drowsy. It was no use; the energy within had somehow evaporated, and along with it, any hope of seeing Edea's plot to fruition. He continued to stare into the sphere's empty shell, nearly breathless. He had no words. A full minute passed before he finally found them.

"Damn it all!"

Enraged, he threw the sphere to the ground will all his might. It sunk into the tent's floor, forming a divot via the sandy patch underneath. It would have made no difference were it solid rock, and snapped the still-open sphere's hinges clean in half. Without the precious, supposedly one-of-a-kind energy, it was worthless.

How am I supposed to awaken her now?!

"Sir Seifer! Are you alright?"

He turned his head as one of the knights assigned to guard his tent dipped in through the entrance. In his anger, he'd clearly forgotten his surroundings. However frustrated he was, he knew he couldn't let an ounce of it show, lest he cease to command the authority of his platoon.

"Yeah," he grunted. He swiftly straightened himself out and motioned to his wristwatch. "Just forgot to set my alarm. As you were."

The knight promptly saluted before ducking back out. Satisfied, Seifer exhaled, reached down for the bronze sphere, and slipped it back into his pocket.

He couldn't fathom what reason there might be for the energy's sudden disappearance, nor how he was to move forward without it. As Edea had explicitly told him months before, there could only exist one sphere of its elemental denomination. He'd already figured as much; outside of Xu's, there had never been another like it seen at Balamb Garden. Naturally, he'd been shocked when Selphie had conjured holy spellcraft right before his eyes that night in Deling City. With no other reference, nor any reason to doubt Edea, he'd assumed it to be the same one, brushing aside the incongruities. Even the sphere's bronze coloring and Galbadian logo hadn't been enough to dissuade him; it seemed logical to expect this one special sphere they were after would be markedly different in various ways. Now, he was no longer so sure.

It hadn't made sense then that the commandant would have given her GF to a fresh transfer student, and it still didn't now. Whatever the case, the energy contained within Selphie's had been plenty real. With it gone, there was nothing else for him to do but hope there indeed had been two all along, and that the one he needed was still in SeeD's possession. How to get hold of it was another story.

All in due time…

With a deep breath to calm himself, Seifer picked up his gunblade and stowed it in his jacket. He then made for the tent's entrance flap, where his boots waited beside. He laced them, and stepped outside into the early morning sunlight. The camp stretched out all around, trailing across the sand to the craggy cliff-side overlooking the sea. There were few tents beside his own; they were all the sets Biggs and Wedge had managed to retrieve, allotted to the highest ranking among them. The charred remains of numerous campfires dotted the space in between, around which the grunts had been forced to make their sleeping accommodations. With any luck, it wouldn't be for much longer. Soon, they would see reinforcements coming in on the horizon, bringing with them the means to begin probing beneath the waters. And then, everything would change.

I won't fail you again, Matron… I swear it…

"Unbelievable," Edea exhaled.

Squall solemnly nodded. More than a week removed from the events, he still found it all hard to believe himself. With a glance around the room, between his teammates, the White SeeDs, and Headmaster Cid alike, it was obvious no one among them could fully wrap their head around it, regardless of whether they'd been there to see it firsthand.

His and Quistis' combined energy had apparently been enough to overcome that of the sunken sorceress. In a flash of light, the skeleton had immediately dispersed into nothingness. Its tattered clothes and jewelry were all that was left behind, crumpled together inside the raised harness. To Squall's relief, the anguished screaming in his ears had finally been silenced. So too could he breathe easy again, both figuratively and literally. With a glance back to be sure Reiner and Brent were alright themselves, the four wasted no time retracing their steps back up the underwater tower.

The residual aftermath of the sorceress' destruction was clear to see even from the sixth level. Through the murky waters below the research center, the underside of the giant domed sea creature shone brightly from afar. Its long tendril looked as if it had been set ablaze, enveloped in a wellspring of energy much as the skeleton itself. Only as the radiance trailed up and away did he realize it too was evaporating. By the time they'd climbed the full height of the tower, the monster had completely vanished without a trace.

They'd rendezvoused with Zell and Liza at the top. Selphie and Irvine had arrived on the scene shortly thereafter, just in time for a full debrief. According to their testimony, both the domed creature and the two dragons had swiftly begun fading from existence at the moment they'd overpowered the sorceress. Irvine had done all the talking. Even now, Selphie had barely spoken a word ever since; all the exhilaration Squall had seen from her as she'd straddled her dragon's back barely an hour before had seemingly disappeared along with it.

Together, the eight of them had feverishly discussed all that had transpired and what it could possibly mean. Incredulity was in no short supply, nor wild theories pertaining to the sort of research that had been going on both at the facility and in Esthar. Eventually, they'd all turned in for the night at Quistis' suggestion. The White SeeDs had led the way to a block of still-intact living quarters where they'd finally been allowed some rest after such a long, grueling day. However small the bed he'd wound up with, topped by crinkled, raggedy sheets, Squall had practically fallen onto the mattress in sheer exhaustion. He'd slept like a log, waking only to trade off lookout duty for an hour in the middle of the night.

He'd awakened early the next morning to a rumbling in his stomach. With the research center now clear of any other immediate threat, his body had finally seen fit to remind him that he'd eaten nothing since the previous midday. Likewise, his throat had been parched. Recognizing his and his team's hunger, Reiner, Brent and Liza had evenly split the last of their emergency ration packs to tide them all over until the Garden returned later in the day. For water, the White SeeDs had managed to make due with their canteens for the last few days. Their next course of action would have been to bank on whatever filtered water was still left in the pipes, regardless of how unhygienic it would be to drink. Fortunately, since getting the auxiliary generator up and running, the station's water filtration system had likewise kicked back on.

The morning had dragged on far too long for Squall's liking. Hours had continued to tick by without any sign of the Garden's approach. He'd cursed himself for not setting a more specific time frame, but then, he'd had no idea what to expect from the get-go; the research center could have been desolate or fully supplied, its occupants few or many, aggressive or agreeable to them, and all that before he'd had any inkling as to what had been ramming them. Considering what had been lurking beneath the waves, he realized they were in fact incredibly lucky to have neutralized the threat so quickly.

If nothing else, their extended down-time had given him the opportunity to explain the situation with Edea to the White SeeDs. They'd predictably balked at the notion of her having been possessed by another sorceress from the future. With continued insistence from himself and the others however, backed up by their own detailed accounts, they hadn't been able to brush it off for long. And so, once they'd all finally re-boarded Balamb Garden near midday, Squall gave the go-ahead for the nav crew to head back to the orphanage. He'd then immediately gone to check on Rinoa in her dorm room. Disappointingly, her condition had stayed the same, and would remain so for the entirety of the coming voyage.

As with the trip down south and along the Centra coast, they'd made it back to the island in 10 days. Upon disembarking, Squall's party of eight had been intercepted by the squad of SeeDs he'd assigned to watch over the orphanage. That they were still alive reassured him that Ultimecia had yet to retake control of Edea. Unfortunately, despite their clean-up efforts over the last few weeks, the future sorceress' mark remained imprinted on the soil. A handful of small gravestones trailed along the ivy-strewn path to the front entrance. Presumably, the children had been buried by the detachment Cid had sent months before, when he'd first gotten wind of Edea having allied herself with Galbadia. None were etched with names. Instead, a small vase of flowers had been set beside each, freshly picked from the great field just beyond.

He'd given the squad leave to re-board the Garden before proceeding inside. Stepping back into the house after so many years was a surreal experience; regardless of how little he still remembered, the stone walls alone were enough to give him a rush of nostalgia. Predictably, the White SeeDs' reunion with Edea had been nearly as emotionally charged as Squall and his friends' own. After many tears, and at least two hours spent getting all parties up to speed with one another, they now either sat or stood around the orphanage's main common area, ready to discuss their next collective course of action. The rear windows to the beachfront were open, allowing the gentle afternoon breeze to come sweeping in as it pleased.

"Makes you wonder how her body ended up all the way down there," Brent hummed.

"She must have been sunk by the Centrans, long ago," Quistis concluded, bringing her clenched hand up to her chin. "I feel like I might have read something like that before, somewhere."

"Alive, though?" Irvine cut in from against the wall. "That's what I'm still hung up on. You'd think it would've made more sense to kill her and then dump the evidence."

"Not necessarily," Edea corrected him. Her eyes swiveled down to the tiled floor beneath, with her hands held clenched in her lap. "Perhaps whoever it was thought they could break the line of inheritance by keeping her secluded from the world. Somewhere no one would ever find her."

"Until Galbadia did," Squall stated grimly. Vast as the waters off the Centra coast were, it had only been a matter of time before she'd finally been re-discovered.

There was no way to know just how many centuries, or even millennia the sorceress had spent at the bottom of the ocean. It had surely been a fate infinitely worse than death; she'd been kept in perpetual suffocation, unable to die even with the constant pressure crushing down on her. That her will had persisted even after her brain and all flesh had completely decomposed was perhaps more horrifying still. It seemed to suggest an intermingling between a sorceress' power and her consciousness. Both had been out of control when they'd raised her up from the depths, and nearly overtaken him and his squad. Fortunately, it seemed that with her mortal frame having rotted away, reduced to nothing but a carcass possessed of energy, their own magic had been able to destroy what was left of her. It was Squall's best guess as to how they had prevailed in the end. He'd first pitched the idea to his comrades shortly after, and now to Edea. Without any precedent for such a case, they all seemed willing to give it credence.

He likewise assumed the sorceress' lingering will must have passed onto the jellyfish creature with the power it had repeatedly absorbed from her remains. There was no accounting for the twin dragons, however; they'd likely possessed the consciousness of a pair of researchers instead, if the journal entries they'd known of were any clue. Even after all they'd uncovered aboard the facility, there were still so many mysteries left with no answers. And yet, there were plenty more that had finally come to light. Most importantly: the source of Selphie's bronze GF sphere. With hindsight, there were suddenly so many bits of information from months past he could now piece together.

"The mysterious, magical gift of the sorceress is a power we have sought to make our own for many years now," Deling spoke. "It has been a long and winding journey, rife with monumental setbacks."

"They were using her power to make their own GFs," Zell muttered. He'd detached his own sphere from his belt, and brought it up in his hand.

"Using monsters they'd rounded up from Centra as a conduit," Quistis elaborated. "I just wonder what it was that went wrong with their tests."

To an extent, Squall was grateful things hadn't gone as planned for Galbadia; there was no telling how much worse the state of the world would currently be with five years worth of GFs at their army's disposal. On the other hand however, he couldn't brush aside the loss of the White SeeD Ship, nor the presumptive death of Selphie's adoptive father. Whatever the intentions of those responsible, sinking the sorceress long ago had done nothing to mitigate the threat she'd posed in the long-term.

"So then," Selphie finally spoke up, holding aloft Xu's old sphere for all to see. "What does that say about the energy these are made from?"

The question posed was clearly rhetorical. Squall knew there was now only one logical answer.

"Since Ellone's there already, I say we head to Esthar and find out for ourselves," he suggested.

"They've successfully managed to keep themselves shut off from the rest of the world for 17 years," Reiner reminded him. "There's no way they're going to just let us cruise on in."

"And what's our alternative?" he snapped back as he relieved himself from the wall. "Wasn't your faction formed specifically to keep her out of Esthar's clutches? Who knows what they could be doing to her over there? We need to get moving, ASAP!"

"Squall," Quistis firmly addressed him. "Are you sure this is really about Ellone to you?"

He instinctively opened his mouth, but stopped as the implication behind her words struck true. It was undeniable; it hadn't been purely for her sake that he'd set the Garden on course for Centra, nor was it the impetus which drove him to head east now. He was positive that Ellone would have reached out to him by now if she felt she were in any serious danger, and explained the situation. There was no such assurance in Rinoa's case; after nearly 2 months, he was still no closer to determining what was wrong with her.

"Remember your duties as commandant, Squall," Cid spoke up from Edea's side. "The Garden's well-being always comes first."

"That's right," Quistis insisted. "We've been away for so long already, our supplies are bound to be winding down. Now's the time to return to Balamb and restock. Once we're topped off, then we can start to think about how we're going to make our way into Esthar."

Maybe you'd like to be the one calling the shots, then?

It was obvious why Xu had originally been banking on her to become next in line for the title. Her prior experience as an instructor notwithstanding, she'd already practically upstaged him. Indeed, now more than ever, he wished the responsibility had never fallen to him. Though he'd taken up the mantle out of obligation, cracks were already starting to show under his leadership. Quistis was right on both counts; he'd let himself become too emotionally invested, to where he'd completely neglected his duty to the student body as a whole. For however well he'd managed since the Battle of the Gardens, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep it up much longer. Certainly, he'd never finish a full 3 year term at this rate.

"If that's how it has to be."

He said nothing more as he turned away and filed out of the room. He continued out of the house and down the stone steps, even as his squadmates, Cid, and Edea called out to him from behind. Any further discussion would be pointless; of course the well-being of the Garden took precedent. It was unfortunate that it would take another month or so to circle back around the continent to Balamb, but unavoidable so long as the Horizon Bridge stood in their way to the east.

As he strode along the pathway, his eyes came to rest on the annex off to the left-hand side. Instantly, his mind flashed back to that day; it was one no different from this one, sunny and mild, with the scent of the flowers' pollen carried to his nose on a faint breeze. He recalled how the man had emerged from behind the annex's far side, gazing into the distance as he'd stepped out onto the path, and finally turned to him. Just as then, his longing to see Ellone knew no bounds. And again, a seemingly insurmountable obstacle stood in his way. It was one not nearly so fearsome, nor was he a powerless, frightened little child anymore. But all the same, he was at a loss for what to do. His life had well and truly come full circle.

Where do I go from here?

His head began to pound as he mulled over his options further. And then came the familiar stabbing pain through his mind. He grit his teeth as he brought both hands up to his head. He stumbled forward as the ringing took his ears, his feet abruptly becoming tangled in the ivy. Before he knew it, he was falling. All he could do was allow the sensation to take him, and hope a quick loss of consciousness would spare him from the impact. He gave in, and so it was done.

"Grrrrrrr…"

"Yeah, me too, buddy," Laguna said back to the moomba. Based on what he'd picked up, he was reasonably sure the noise meant it was hungry.

"Hey, no talking!"

The guard followed up his verbal reprimand with a lash across Laguna's back. He winced as the whip cracked against his bare skin, but nothing more. By now, he'd practically become used to it; he'd already suffered plenty of abuse since he and his comrades had been sold into slavery along with roughly half of the moombas Norg had captured.

The Shumi outcast had delivered him and his friends into Esthar as promised, albeit at a price much steeper than they'd agreed upon. For the first few days they'd spent chained up in the back of the prisoner transport, his rage had been uncontrollable. He couldn't believe he'd been so foolish to take Norg at his word; with hindsight, he ought to have given much more consideration to the Elder's apprehensiveness. By the time they'd finally been dropped off however, his anger had fizzled out, giving way to an abundance of nervous energy. Regardless of the circumstances, he had arrived in Esthar. He was now closer than ever to getting Ellone back.

Straight away, he'd been separated from Kiros and Ward, and set to work deep within the bowels of the great monolith they'd seen from the Vienne Mountains. The details behind its construction still eluded him, as did its true function. From the moment he'd first been ushered into the heart of the giant metal frame however, he'd realized just how familiar its contents in fact were to him. A massive pillar of pale green crystal stood upright in the center. Undoubtedly, it was the very same he'd seen being excavated from Centra roughly two-and-a-half years before.

Even at several miles in height, the shaft was barely tall enough to fully contain the crystal. Dozens of insulated tubes protruding from the rim intersected it from top to bottom all along the shaft's height. Many were falling apart at the seams, with several already having collapsed altogether. He could only assume the blast that had ripped the mountain range apart was to blame; evidently, their construction hadn't been sturdy enough to withstand the force of whatever test they'd been conducting. And so, he along with hundreds of other indentured workers, moomba and human alike, had been tasked with repairing and further bolstering their structural integrity.

Besides his face-mask and welding iron, he and the moomba wore tethered safety harnesses as they worked upon the scaffolding. That they'd been allotted them at all was the most generosity he'd yet experienced from their hosts. He was grateful, nonetheless; a plummet down to the monolith's base level would be a far worse fate than any punishment the overseers could mete out. There was no telling just where Kiros and Ward were stationed across the vast expanse. Even the latter, despite his near giant-sized proportions, would be impossible to pick out over the distance between each strut. Outside of a brief half-hour lunch break each day, Laguna rarely ever saw them anymore. Neither had he run into his special moomba friend from Shumi Village since they'd arrived, provided he'd even been one of the bunch sold; that Norg had kept some in reserve implied his slave trade extended to regions beyond just Esthar.

[… Ellone? Ellone, what's going on? Are you alright?]

He briefly let his iron sputter out as the feeling shot through his head. Considering the myriad times it had come over him in the last several years, and the wide range of consequences in each case, he could no longer pretend to know if it was a good or bad sign anymore.

[Yes, Squall, I'm fine.]

[Where are you? We found the White SeeDs almost two weeks ago. They said you jumped on board an Esthar ship.]

Somehow, the sensation felt more jumbled and intense than usual. He could no longer focus on anything else; it was as if his mind were somehow at war with itself.

[It's true. I'm here now, in the capital city. And that's why I'm reaching out to you. I need you to come see me as soon as you can. There's something I need to make right.]

[What are you talking about? Are they holding you prisoner? Have they hurt you in any way?]

[I told you, Squall, I'm fine. They're taking good care of me here. I've already told the administration to keep an eye open for you along the border. They'll let you in as long as you can prove your identity. I promise I'll explain everything when you get here.]

[What about Rinoa?! She still hasn't woken up from her coma!]

[Then bring her along! I'll clear it with them as soon as I disconnect. Just please, hurry!]

"What the hell are you just standing around for?!"

Laguna was snapped back to his surroundings as the rage-filled voice cut through the haze of his swirling consciousness. Even if it hadn't been enough, the ensuing lash surely would have done the trick. He grit his teeth as the whip cracked across his bare back again, and set to work as best he could. To his relief, the dissonant ebbing had receded. He would need a sound mind, as well as all the wit and cunning he'd ever possessed to make his way out of this latest predicament. He'd come so far, and endured so much hardship. He could not and would not stop until he discovered where Ellone was being held, and brought her home to Winhill.

I'll be there soon, Ellie…

[And so will I…]

"Squall? Squall!"

He creaked open his eyes and pushed himself up from the ivy. In the short time since he'd taken the tumble, Selphie and Irvine had arrived on the scene. Both knelt down on either side of him, and helped him back to his feet.

"You alright?" the gunslinger asked.

"Sure," he grunted, brushing off his jacket and pants. "I… I just tripped."

With how brief the vision had been, and provided neither of them had seen him reaching for his head as he'd fallen, there was every chance he could play it off. That his feet were still tangled up in the ivy would only help to sell the bluff.

"Geez, you gotta watch where you're going!" Selphie insisted. "Why'd you have to take off like that, anyway? You made Matron worry."

"I just needed some fresh air," he deflected. "There's nothing to worry about. Sorry."

"You can tell that to her," Irvine motioned back to the house. "So, what's the plan? Those three are gonna stay here to keep tabs on her. Are we heading back to Balamb?"

"First thing in the morning."

Indeed, he was determined to speed them on their way back around the continent. For the benefit of SeeD as a collective, he would not stoop to dragging them or anyone else along in his own pursuits. With a quick trip back inside to assure all concerned parties, and another up to the bridge to inform the navigation crew, the stage was set. The Garden would cast off from the island in the early morning hours of Monday, June 14th, to begin its long journey home up along the west coast. Squall however, would be well on his way due east by the time they set sail.

His mind was made up. For however intensely a part of his conscience pleaded for him to stay, he could no longer stifle the urge. Ellone needed him, as did Rinoa, whose physical condition was only continuing to deteriorate with each passing day; there was no guarantee she would last another month at this rate. His dilemma was fundamentally no different from Laguna's, who'd left everything behind for the sake of the two people he cared most about. Now was his time to take that very same step.

Sorry, everyone. I can't go on like this.

And so, with the stroke of midnight, when he could be sure there would be no one else up and about the Garden halls to stand in his way, he set his plan into motion. Having already set about procuring the smaller essentials during the day, he was finally at leisure to gather those bulkier. First was another inflatable lifeboat like the one they'd deployed to reach the research center. Although there was a set of small wooden canoes already docked along the shore, he knew he would need something sturdier to support the amount of weight he was anticipating. With a flashlight in one hand, the kit wedged under his arm, and the motor slung over his opposite shoulder, he'd hauled them out of the Garden and into position on the sand before heading back in.

His next stop was the parking garage. It was imperative he hit the ground running from the moment he reached the mainland; besides getting to Esthar before Rinoa withered away without an IV drip, he would need a means of evading whatever patrols might be running up and down along the continent. He commandeered a captured Galbadian motorcycle they'd preserved from the Battle of the Gardens, along with several fully topped off fuel canisters, and likewise walked it out to the shoreline. The boat had fully inflated by the time he'd arrived. To his relief, the material was indeed strong enough to support the bike's weight once he'd heaved it up over the lip and inside.

Finally, there was Rinoa; he'd slipped into her dorm room, disconnected her from the drip, and picked her up out of the bed. That hoisting her onto his back took so little effort gave him an entirely different discomfort in its place. In that moment, he knew without a doubt that his course of action was justified. There was no longer any time to waste. As he hauled her out through the atrium, deserted as ever, he remembered the night of the Garden Festival, when she'd come to collect him from his own dorm room. Malnourished and deeply troubled as he'd been then, she had it so much worse now. Provided Ellone could be of any help, he swore he would show her a night like that night again.

In all, his preparations had taken him roughly an hour and a half. Once he'd run ashore on the southern coast of the mainland, he would do his best to trace the route he, Quistis, and Rinoa had taken from the D-District Prison towards Timber, and onward to the Horizon Bridge. He was determined to make it there before noon. Traffic pending, he figured it ought to be possible provided he got moving right away; if nothing else, the Galbadian military motorcycle would give him a perfect excuse to ignore the speed limit.

Nevertheless, there were his own bodily needs to account for. Even if he kept his stops brief and as few as possible, it would be at least several days before he finally made it; the bridge's full length was immense, and the Esthar continent, the largest on the planet by a wide margin, greater still. With the cafeteria's food stores kept under lock and key, he would need to procure sustenance for the trip elsewhere. Stealing freshly sown produce from Matron's garden, though underhanded, was his only recourse. He plucked a few tomatoes, carrots, and radishes, and threw them into a backpack. Inside already were five bottles of water, and a folded up body harness to keep Rinoa's limp body secured to his own for the duration of their ride.

"Didn't think you'd be that low on food."

Squall jumped up and spun around. His flashlight's beam abruptly landed on Reiner, standing mere feet away from his side. He couldn't believe he hadn't heard his footsteps rustling through the grass.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" the lieutenant sternly asked him with a cocked eyebrow.

"What has to be done," Squall answered. He zipped up the backpack and slung it over his shoulder. "She reached out to me earlier, and I'm going to get her back. You've got to understand… I can't just leave things as they are."

"You think I don't?" Reiner shot back incredulously. "I've spent damn near half my life looking after Ellone. It hasn't been any easier for me to accept, but my position carries responsibility. As does yours."

In truth, he knew not even half of what Squall felt on the matter. And though he recognized the selfish, and perhaps even cowardly light his desertion might paint him in, that alone would not stop him. For too long he'd sat idly by, stewing in his pent-up resentment from having been torn away from Ellone in his youth. He'd been content to simply exist day to day without a sense of purpose, letting fate carry him through his years spent in the Garden. The realization had terrified him mere months ago, when he'd reached the end of his tenure as a cadet. He'd had no direction, no dream, and no vision for the future. All that had changed.

He'd had enough of fate, destiny, or whatever force had led him to this very moment. Finally, for the first time in his life, he was ready to forge his own path, by his own volition, on his own terms. The title of commandant and the responsibilities it carried had no place in his future. It was not a calling he'd ever aspired for, but merely accepted when there had been no one else to step up. To see Rinoa well again, he would gladly denounce the burden of command.

"Your loyalty to Matron is why you stay here," he finally spoke. "She never asked you to do that, did she? But you volunteered anyway, because you care for her, and want to make sure she doesn't lose herself again. I've already lost Ellone twice. And someone else. My loyalty to them is the reason why I have to go. Because I know, if I let either of them down… well, that's not the kind of man I want to be remembered as."

Before, he would have chalked it up to his duty as a SeeD to keep Ellone safe, or as part of their former contract in Rinoa's case. Somehow though, this new rationale rolled off his lips with so much more ease.

"I promise I'll bring her back," he swore, performing the SeeD salute. "Just please keep this between us for now."

Reiner said nothing for several moments, simply staring him up and down from head to toe. Eventually, he returned the gesture.

"You all really came through for us back at the research center," he acknowledged. "I suppose that's good enough for one favor."

"Thank you," Squall exhaled, releasing the pose. "Well, wish me luck."

"Good luck. Still, don't you think your own team will catch on pretty quick?"

"I'm counting on it," he muttered, turning on his heel. "See you soon."

He trailed off into the darkness, bound for the shore where the boat lay with the motorcycle and Rinoa nestled inside. He tossed in the backpack and flashlight before shoving it off the sand and into the shallows. As he clambered aboard, he took one last look back up at the Garden towering over the darkened orphanage. The only two homes he'd ever known stood side by side, both swathed in shadows, obscured, like the faintest recollections of an old memory. He revved the motor, and as the propeller kicked up, turned his eyes forward to the future.

Let's go, Rinoa. Let's go meet Ellone. It's a bit far, but… we'll make it.